


All I Want for Christmas

by unknowableroom_archivist



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: One Shot, Romance
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2009-01-12
Updated: 2009-01-12
Packaged: 2019-01-23 13:38:08
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,229
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12508640
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/unknowableroom_archivist/pseuds/unknowableroom_archivist
Summary: [Fic Exchange '08] Lily's best friend convinces her to correspond with and go on a blind date with a boy she thinks is just perfect for Lily, but Lily can't get James Potter out of her head. After Lily has bared her soul to her new friend, can he win her wayward heart?





	All I Want for Christmas

**Author's Note:**

> Note from ChristyCorr, the archivist: this story was originally archived at [Unknowable Room](http://fanlore.org/wiki/Unknowable_Room), a Harry Potter archive active from 2005-2016. To preserve the archive, I began manually importing its works to the AO3 as an Open Doors-approved project after May 2017. I e-mailed all creators about the move and posted announcements, but may not have reached everyone. If you are (or know) this creator, please contact me using the e-mail address on [Unknowable Room collection profile](http://www.archiveofourown.org/collections/unknowableroom).

Merry Christmas, Pia!

.

Christmas was coming.

The scene was thus: two girls, finally with the common room to themselves, at just past midnight, curled in the oversized armchairs before the perpetually roaring fire. Thick velvet drapes held out the winter chill from the oak-framed, bay windows, and the impossibly high Christmas tree, glittering and glittering in green, red and gold, threw a thousand rainbow shadows over their faces. There they sat: one redhead, one blond; one expression of suspicion, one of mischievous determination.

"You'll love this guy," Mary had beamed, her eyes glistening with that awful I-know-something-you-don't expression that always exasperated Lily. "He's funny, smart, good-looking, everything you'd want, he's just too shy to ask a girl out directly so his friend asked me if I knew any nice girls who were free to go on a Christmas date. It'd cheer you up. Consider it my Christmas present to you," she added slyly.

"I don't get a real present?" Lily had asked in mock horror, mostly to disguise the uncertainty about the idea.

"Maybe," Mary had shrugged. "Depends how the date goes and how forever grateful you are to me for finding the love of your life. Come on, Christmas Eve, who can say no to a Christmas date?"

_Love of my life,_ thought Lily wryly. She hated that when someone mentioned that phrase, although aloud she would toss her head and say, 'I don't believe in that; how can you be destined for just one single person? That would never happen,' something inside of her still cherished a hope. Worst of all, inescapably, madly, whenever she thought of that inane concept, a face and a name automatically and totally involuntarily arose in her rebellious thoughts.

She didn't believe him when he would drop to one knee and dramatically declare undying love for her in the Gryffindor common room, with Sirius and Peter dancing about in the background and trilling 'oooh!' while Remus sniggered behind a hand. She wasn't convinced that years of poking her and asking her out were anything more than his favourite pastime, annoying her. This was, after all, the boy to whom Biting Teacups were the height of innovation, to whom a class' educational value was measureable only in terms of its pranking possibilities, right? Of course. James Potter was an arrogant brain-dead jerk whose smile might haunt her, but whose idiocy caused her to roll her eyes just as much. Right.

So why could she never seem to let him go?

"Earth to Lily? Come in, Space Cadet?" Mary was waving her hands in front of her. Lily blinked and flushed slightly.

"Just...considering," she said loftily, and Mary gave her a wryly sympathetic smile.

"It will...help take your mind off things," she said, as tactfully as she knew how. Lily grimaced, and shifted in her chair. Mary always had been able to read her thoughts.

"Look, there's still a month until Christmas Eve," Mary said. "I can get him to owl you if you like, get to know him, so it's not a shock, so you know he's not a total psycho. You don't have to use names or anything, or even your own owl; I'll lend you mine if you want."

Lily smiled at Mary's persistence. "You're determined, aren't you?"

"Honestly, he's perfect for you," she insisted. "I'd never set you up with anyone I didn't think you'd like. Go on, go wild, take a risk! You call yourself a Gryffindor, girl? Why don't you go and write a letter and I'll owl it off to him, and then by Christmas you won't be able to wait." She grinned. "And wouldn't you rather be with the perfect man than with that awful sister of yours?"

Lily nodded, resigned. The thought of another Christmas Eve with Petunia sniping at her over the turkey did not fill her with seasonal feeling. "Alright," she said, at last. "Seeing as it's you. But if he is a psycho..." She waved a threatening finger. "I'll...I'll...I'll dungbomb you for the rest of the year!"

"Consider me warned," Mary had laughed. "But he really isn't, promise. Go write a letter and I'll communicate with my secret sources and let him know what's happening. He'll be thrilled!"

"Sure," Lily had snorted, although to her surprise she couldn't ignore the sudden flicker of excitement in her stomach. Mary was about the only person she would trust to set her up with someone she had never before met. Maybe it would work out well. After all, what was the worst that could happen? He'd be boring and have nothing in common with her and she'd have wasted a couple of hours of her life drinking eggnog and pretending she was somewhere else with someone else, that was all. Worse things had happened. At least...well, it would distract her for a while. Merlin knew, she needed it...

-

That had been three weeks ago. Now Lily lay on her bed at home, smiling softly as she read the latest letter from her date-to-be; "Rudolph", as he had taken to signing himself. She had scoffed at first, but there was a quirkiness about his writing that had made the tacky name seem endearing rather than cheesy. She laughed aloud...well, alright...endearingly cheesy. Mind, for her name she had picked 'Pepper', a childhood nickname from her favourite picture book as a seven year old that had stuck all these years, so she was really in no position to judge.

She had to admit it...Mary hadn't disappointed. Lily hadn't been expecting much at all – a few lines on what classes he was taking, perhaps where he lived, what his favourite Quidditch team was. Average, anonymous stuff. Her cautious first letter had been answered with a page of funny introduction, smart observations, anecdotes and enthusiasm. She loved that best of all – even from that first letter her mystery correspondent seemed to have such vitality, to be so alive and open to the world. Writing the second letter had been easy, and from then it had blossomed into a nightly ritual – finish tea, block out Petunia's voice, listen to some music and write a letter to Rudolph. He wrote with such a mix of vivacity and maturity that sometimes it amazed her – he would offer a point of view on an issue or a problem she had never considered, always answering her with sensitivity and something to make her smile.

After a week she found herself opening up to the faceless friend – because that was what he had become – quicker than she had imagined she could, telling him about Petunia, her least favourite teacher's hideous holiday homework, her dreams for the future and her fears and anger over the underground Death Eater movement. She could express her serious side, her determination to achieve something in the magical world, as well as her playfulness and the occasional contraband little adventures she got up to after lessons. His replies were empathic and understanding, and even when his views clashed with hers, she was more than happy to enter into a lively debate – he wasn't afraid to challenge her. He had a spirit of adventure and a certain rebelliousness, but seemed equally aware that he had a place in society and a sense of responsibility.

She found herself thinking more and more about her mystery man – what house was he in? Who were his friends? He mentioned them a lot – they were obviously a close group, much like her and her Gryffindor dorm mates. Maybe they had met, spoken, shared a class...the thought that she might have idly loaned a quill or shared a group joke with her correspondent made her heart jump, a strange illicit thrill.

She re-read his latest missive. Lily fished out the Owl Treats from her top drawer in the meantime, feeling slightly guilty. She hadn't been expecting to overwork Mary's owl quite this much.

 

_'Evening, Pep,_

_'Nice try, but I'm not convinced – trust me, a few years down the line, no-one will have heard of the Beatles and The Swingin' Medallions will be huge. Bigger than Jesus, mark my words!_

_I'm sorry your sister is being so foul, as well...I guess a lot of people resent it when someone gets something special they can never have...isn't it the same for everyone, really? It's always hard to be overshadowed, I imagine. Don't let her get to you. It must be hard for Muggleborns generally...not being able to be part of any world, there's always going to be people on both sides who'll misunderstand you. I have a friend whose situation is rather similar – he finds it so difficult, so many people have so many preconceived ideas. I'm lucky, really, I'm Pureblood, but since I've seen what my friend goes through, and what a lot of rubbish so many people are repeating – even first years! – I really want to do something. There has to be a way I can help – I know there's something we can do._

_'Not long 'till we actually get to meet now...Is Diagon Alley convenient for you? A nice, central point, although if you live on the Shetland Isles, I'm happy to reconsider. Iceland, maybe? We could bump into Father Christmas and hitch a lift home. You can't say that's not a special first date! That said, London really would be easier so feel free not to take me up on Iceland. Maybe next year._

_'Since you ask, I've had a few dates earlier in the year, but nothing serious...in truth, the girl I really liked for a long time thinks I'm a prat...I made a really stupid mistake around her when I was younger and nothing I can do can convince her to forget it. I'm looking forward to a date with a girl who actually knows what I think and believe now and who has a mind of her own. I have actually changed a lot over the years, so I can see where she's coming from, in a way, but it's still difficult, that she won't give me a chance. It's been a long time...I want to get over her and move on with someone who is actually willing to get to know me. I'm young, free, loveable and single, after all! There, now if I haven't scared you off, I'll be impressed!_

_'R'_

 

Lily rolled her eyes to herself, playful, but she appreciated his honesty with her. She was glad she hadn't offended him by asking in the previous letter, but there was still a cautious part of her that wanted to know there would be no awkward rebound situation, or that he was only after her for a night. His answer had been straightforward and he hadn't tried to hide anything. It was rare to find anyone willing to be that honest with a girl before a date. She lifted her quill to her lips, musing on what to reply.

 

_'Hi again Ru!_

_'I'll try, but it's hard, we were so close once. I do miss that...she doesn't seem to care at all, though. Me too...the way all this Death Eater business is progressing is terrible – there is a difference, of course there is, in lifestyle, upbringing and tradition, but we should be working to erase that. Everyone is human!_

_'Diagon Alley sounds perfect, anywhere particular you would like to go? I'm really sorry about the other girl... she obviously doesn't know what she's missing! Who wouldn't want a fascinating in-depth analysis of which house-elf is the best to butter up for extra scones? Just joking, because you know I obviously do! Important information needs to be shared, after all._

_'Some people can change, though...I know so many people who have, myself included, and people who've been close to me.'_

 

She smiled sadly, the associated remembrance about who had changed and why automatically leading to a certain figure in her thoughts, and sighed. She hadn't intended to bring...him...into it at all, but he had laid himself bare about his romantic history, and to be honest with herself the urge to excise James Potter from her mind and life forever, to get over this ridiculous crush by sharing the story with a sympathetic ear, was compelling. It seemed awkward to be discussing a crush on another boy with an upcoming date, but he deserved to know.

 

_'Actually, I'm in a fairly similar situation...had a couple of dates in passing, nothing that led to anything, but there is a boy who I know perfectly well is a total moron and a bully, who never thinks further than his next stupid idea with his idiotic friends, but I just couldn't get him out of my head. He thinks he is so special, and he seems to love annoying and arguing with me!'_

 

She paused, and added, almost involuntarily, from some strange masochistic impulse,

 

_'I'm sure you can work out who it is – he's a Quidditch star, everyone reckons he'll be Head Boy. I know, me and all the other girls in the school...Although it's sometimes nice to know he at least pays me some attention, even if I know he's never serious. He never is. I don't want to fancy him, because I know what he's like, but...I can't help myself. Just sometimes he'll do something that will make me think otherwise, even though I know the truth.'_

 

Stupid Potter. Of course he didn't mean anything he said. He could – and doubtless had! - have any one of those giggling, simpering girls who flocked around him after a Quidditch game, winking and blushing as he grinned rakishly at them, sweeping his thick dark hair from his forehead, broom tucked under an arm and a faint sheen of sweat on his strong features. He wasn't short on options. He was just a pillock who loved to irritate her, because he knew he had an effect. At least he didn't know _why_ he had an effect...

 

_'Anyway, we're going to have a fantastic time on Christmas Eve and forget everyone else!'_

 

It was so much easier getting to know someone through letters, Lily considered. You were free to express yourself without other people around, without blushing or not knowing where to look, without all the wrong words coming out, without the likelihood of a sudden exaggeration or, in the case of some boys, downright lies, tripping over the tongue. It was a refreshingly honest way to get to know someone.

Speaking of knowing someone...

 

_'Like all good movies, I think we'll need a sign so we know each other come the date! Imagine buying drinks for the wrong witch without even knowing. It would be dreadful, and I wouldn't laugh at all.'_

 

She mused, and added,

 

_'How about a sprig of golden holly? I know you know how to transfigure that, it was the last lesson of term for everyone! Anonymity right down to the very last minute...what's the fun of a surprise unless it's total?! And by surprise, I do in fact mean the possibility of total shock in a public place. We live dangerous lives! But I think we know each other well enough not to be totally aghast when we meet, so all will be well and we'll have a wonderful Christmas time!_

_'P'_

 

And as she sealed the letter and tucked it into the owl's envelope, she really believed it might be possible.

-

So...here she was. And there he'd be. Florean Fortescue's, he'd suggested, a comfy, casual setting which nevertheless offered enough intimacy to be a proper date. A proper date. She felt her chest tighten. Now she felt the butterflies dancing inside, she had to admit.

Lily walked nervously into the ice cream parlour, trying to look nonchalant. Diagon Alley itself was beautiful at Christmas; a cornucopia of lights, sweet scents, song and snowflakes. Every window displayed tempting seasonal delights, from flying reindeer toys – she had been close to buying one as a little gift for Rudolph – to giant Christmas puddings to silk robes in every colour of the rainbow for parties. There was something in the air, something that she blamed for the airy feeling of pleasure in her heart far more than she would blame the upcoming date. Something...she smiled, unable to stop herself...something magical. She felt like a child again, ready to experience the wide-eyed wonder and delight of a new discovery, waiting for Father Christmas. Well...waiting for a man, anyway...waiting for a Christmas marvel.

Florean Fortescue's had outdone itself. Swirling, glittering pillars of ice soared towards a softly snowing ceiling, studded with crystal and a thousand tiny lights. The beguiling scents of pine, cinnamon and spiced apple filled the air, making Lily breathe in with delight, filling her lungs with the scents of the season. Everywhere around her, witches and wizards laughed over their steaming hot desserts or, for those in the mood, ice cream in every flavor of December. Tables made of impermeable spun sugar edged with Christmas Roses, surely too delicate to support anything, were laden with winter treats for every and any taste.

Now...her heart trembled...to find a wizard sitting alone, with a branch of golden holly. That couldn't be hard.

Lily turned, eyes scanning the parlour, and froze. Oh no. If there had ever been a sign that the fates were stacked against her, this was it: James Potter. James Potter, sitting there casual as you like, sipping something steaming in a mug and leaning back in his chair with an air of over-affected coolness. James Potter with his stupid ruffled hair and his too-long scarf she wanted to wrap around his neck one more time than he had done it and his big hazel eyes roving the people in the bar, as though he was looking for something.

She backed involuntarily away, but too late: he had turned her way. She saw his eyes widen at the sight of her, and then he grinned (stupid lopsided grin!) and waved.

"Evans? Well, there's a Christmas treat if ever I had one!" he called, and, feeling her face turn redder by the second, she set her face into a look of disgust and strode over, ignoring the curious stares of the other patrons.

"Potter? I thought you'd be swanning it up at home or misflying into Father Christmas," she drawled, trying to inject some acid into her voice. He merely laughed, that laugh she either wanted to slap him or possibly kiss him for when she heard it. Or both.

"I have a date," he informed her grandly. "I am so incredibly popular that I am clamored for even on Christmas Eve itself. A long-standing admirer, by all accounts."

Lily sucked her breath in hard. Oh no. Surely not...? This had to be a joke. She had to be wrong. It had to be co-incidence. She glanced wildly around him, and sure enough, lying on the table next to him was a stem of golden holly, glittering in the crystal light. James stared at her, then followed her gaze. His face froze, and wordlessly, Lily pulled out her own and threw it onto the table.

"Merry Christmas, Rudolph," she said dryly. Their eyes met, and for a moment, they just looked at each other, time stopping around them.

"I...I swear I didn't know it was you," he breathed, still staring into her eyes. Lily couldn't answer – a million terrible reminders were filling her head from every letter she had sent. She had told Ru – _James_ – everything. Every secret, every dream, every thought that had crossed her mind. Oh no, no, no...she had told him she fancied him. This couldn't be.

Every muscle in her body screamed at her to run, but she couldn't even move. Her whole heart and soul had seized up. Seeing her distress, he swallowed his own shock and gallantly stood up.

"Take a seat," he said gently, and pulled her unresisting body into the chair next to him.

She blinked, and sunk heavily into the seat, feeling her cheeks redden even further. "Well...what can I say?" she said weakly, numb. Maybe she could transfer to Beauxbatons. Or just run away. Change her name. She had told James Potter she fancied him and there he was, a hand still warm on her shoulder, looking at her with big gentle eyes full of concern and, yes, naturally, amusement, and...something else. Something like...hope?

"Don't say anything," he said. "I'll get you a drink and we'll have a date, like we were meant to." He coughed, and added, quietly, with just the faintest touch of awkwardness, "And besides, in case you haven't noticed, I've been telling you I fancy you since third year."

"But you weren't serious!" she protested, trying to ignore him, his closeness, the faint scent of his aftershave, the warmth from his hand, the look on his face, in his eyes, trying to pretend this really wasn't happening, that she was just dreaming. If this was some horrible nightmare and she woke up, she was cancelling the real date the second Mary's owl fluttered through her window. "I knew you weren't! You...you just...I..." she stammered to a halt, sighed, and forced her lips into a sad, self-deprecating smile. "Go ahead, laugh. It's fine. I would, if it was me."

He pulled back, and flopped back in his seat, sighing, swallowing slowly, pausing. Weighing his words and options. "Lily," he said eventually, a weary, mirthless smile quirking his lips, "do you honestly think I would have spent that much time and effort repeating the phrase over and over again just for the purposes of annoying you? Well, obviously, yes you do. OK, I was a bit of a prat a couple of years ago, and I'm sorry. I really am. But..." he shrugged. "I'm not good at being able to express serious things seriously, face to face. That's why I let Remus put me up to this date thing – I thought it might be better if I met someone I'd never made any impression on.

"And I found myself writing to this...this amazing girl, who seemed so smart and interesting, who knew so much and really cared about things, who I could joke about with, who also really understood everything I wrote about, and I thought, great, I'm finally having a serious conversation with a girl who seems like someone I could really like." He took a deep breath. "But all the time at the back of my mind...I was still thinking of you. Heck, I wrote it to you. Didn't you read the letters? I told you everything."

_But I couldn't connect that with you,_ Lily thought, her mind reeling. _That was Rudolph. James Potter would never have trouble with...wouldn't be able to...couldn't..._

She remembered when she heard he had taken Sirius in to live with him. The strength of his loyalty and love for his friend had astounded her. She remembered when he had hexed some seventh years picking on one of the Gryffindor first years. She had been amazed he had even noticed, and realized, in the back of her mind, how, despite his love of rule-breaking, he no longer hexed people for fun – the arrogant little boy of the earlier years really had grown up. She hadn't been willing to believe he was top of the class in Charms – not only because he had beaten her and there was a faint competitive part of her that smarted at that – but because the James Potter she wanted to hate didn't care about his studies. All the things she had refused to look at, even though something inside her acknowledged them, refused to let the little crush on him she could so easily have dismissed, had it merely been physical, fade away.

He was still watching her. "I'm...sorry," she whispered incredulously, raising her eyes to his, with the truth that had hit her so sharply. "Pott _– James_ , I never..."

"I did," he whispered, and reached his hand over to rest on hers. She blushed, and turned her palm up to allow him to curl his fingers around hers and twine them together. "Lily, I can't promise it'll work. But I think it could. I want to try. I always have."

Until that moment there had been nothing but the shame, the fear, that she had told James everything – of just how much he could hurt her from that. Until that moment, she hadn't realized the depth of his power over her...or hers, over him. How much she could hurt him...perhaps, had hurt him. But she didn't want to run. She wanted to stay, trust him, know him, the boy from the letters and the talent and the courage, the man who sat beside her now, whose closeness – had he moved closer? She rather thought he had, or perhaps it had been her, she felt her senses reeling from his closeness - the man she never knew and yet somehow felt as if he was some perpetual, irreplaceable part of her life.

Well, Lily didn't do anything by halves when she had made up her mind.

"Merry Christmas," she whispered, leaning in closer, lifting her lips to his.


End file.
